Living a Lie
by NekoKittysmileyface
Summary: "I have done nothing useful with my life ... All I did for 16 years was watch anime, read shitty fanfictions about Mary-Sue's, and drink all the coffee we had in our house! I was a failure, and now I'm dead!" I rocked back and forth in the dark. If only I had known that I was just stuck in a janitors closet, and I was about to become a bad ass secret agent.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning - May contain a socially inept, rather awkward teenager. If you are offended by this, Please grow some balls and read it anyway.  
**

* * *

**Anastasia's POV**

It's kind of insane, really - I don't quite know how I got into this situation. Why was it me that was ripped away from my old life, and forced to live in a different world until I could obtain the obtainable, like in some kind of poorly written Mary-Sue fan fiction? I could only wrack my brains on how my life had ended up like this.

Well, let me indulge you into the happenings of that day. It had been like any other normal day - at least at first, anyway. I was woken up to the screeching sound of my alarm clock that seemed to glare at me, flashing aggressively in the darkness of my room. It was 6:30am, and I groaned at the harsh noise, before feeling blindly to turn it off again, in order to stop the dreadful noise attacking my poor, unfortunate ears. I gave the clock a rude gesture - then I cringed, glad that no one was there to see me flipping off an inanimate object.

After about an hour or two of my mother coaxing me out of bed - Would you call screaming at me to submit to her will 'coaxing'? I don't think so either - I got dressed for school. Staring at the mirror, I pulled faces at myself like the insanely mature person I was, my light blue eyes holding childishness - though they were dulled with the lack of sleep I was getting lately. Falling out of my bed, I decided I was ready to start the day.

I ripped the hairbrush through my long, white-blonde mess I liked to call my hair, still as tired as when the alarm clock assaulted me - But today, there was a different feeling mixed in. Of course, there was the same tired annoyance and agitation of every other school morning. However, the feeling of being watched among the wreck of my sleep deprived brain - yes, that was new. Despite being a girl of many flaws, Paranoia wasn't normally one of them. So when I found myself searching for a figure in the corner of my eye, I knew there wasn't something quite right.

Even though I felt the way I did, the day wouldn't stop for me, therefore I had to be dragged along with it. The day continued, but the feeling of being watched never ceased. I sort of expected some kind of criminal offender to jump out at me at any given minute...  
Yes, I did realize these were not normal thoughts for a teenage girl.  
Nevertheless, I had to carry on with the day. So I hauled my sorry ass to school, albeit not very enthusiastically - I didn't participate much in my friends conversations when we finally got to see the scruffy, dirty cream walls of the cafeteria, leaving them to talk about who had slagged who off for sleeping with some man whore, whilst my eyes scanned the room shiftily. I oh-so-cleverly noted that whilst I jerked my head around the room searching for an escaped convict who I had suspected was following me, I was worrying my friends, and convincing everyone that I was, in fact, a crack addict.  
"Anastasia?" My friend asked hesitantly. To this day, I can't even remember which one of them had asked. I was in a world of my own by now, plagued by a stupid, unnecessary feeling of being spied on. I nodded whilst mumbling some sort of response (which probably came out as "Msfffphhherrrdmpfeerrgqgqg?", which wasn't really helping my case).  
"You haven't spoken at all since you sat down .. Are you okay?" Another unnameable friend asked. They were obviously not used to this. I was normally coming out with various nonsensical comments - Ones that to others would just show lackluster intelligence, which wasn't necessarily true ..

Okay, it was, but In my defense, It wasn't like I was paying attention most of the time, anyway - I was In my own little world, only coming out of it to blurt out the more strange thoughts I would have. That's probably why I scared people off. That was fine by me, I didn't like people anyway.  
Yes, when people deciphered what I was saying - It's like I spoke a different language to most people, I swear - they would think I was strange - and they were baffled on how such an airhead like me had such a wide knowledge of the English word.

I did try to fit in though, occasionally. Not that it helped. Even when I did try to keep up with the language of my peers, It was in vain - I still managed to sound like a dork most of the time - the way I spoke contrasted quite significantly with my airy attitude. In fact, I had a boy come up to me in school once and call me a 'Right posh wanker.' Charming.  
Anyway, the point I was previously trying to convey was, my friends were probably unnerved with the unusual silence I was keeping up. Trying to snap out of whatever daze I was currently under, I managed a coherent reply.  
"I'm fine, I'm just a bit tired, that's all." I murmured, still glaring at my surroundings. I was always one to trust my gut feeling, and it was telling me that something was wrong. I just needed something, anything to confirm this suspicion.  
A sudden feeling of embarrassment went through me. For Christ sake, what was I hoping to find in this little episode I was having? Just because I had the inkling that someone had been watching me today, I was even ignoring my friends to search for a confirmation, which probably wasn't even obtainable -

Then I saw it. Through the window. A figure of a man, staring through the cafeteria. He was obviously of an Asian ethnicity, and there was something about him that made him appear more fluid than a normal human being should. My eyebrows shot up in disbelief and confusion. I didn't alert him to anyone's attention at first, for he could have been anyone - the school gardener, a janitor, a nosy parent .. I was just being unusually paranoid, that was all.. Dear lord, I really needed mental help.

Before I knew it, lunch had finished - I hadn't touched the food I had bought, and it was now stone-cold. The bell rung and people filed out of the cafeteria in their little cliques.  
I murmured goodbye to my still-concerned friends, and left for my last lesson of the day, which was English, which was something I was relatively good at - Maths, or anything academic, was a bane on my existence. Not that I could concentrate on any schoolwork at that present moment, academic or otherwise.  
I could see the figure again. I could tell he was young, and was definitely _not_ a school gardener, or a janitor, or a nosy parent. In fact, I wasn't even sure if he was even affiliated with the school in any way whatsoever. I wondered if I should notify my English teacher to this unnerving situation, but decided against it. I was beginning to suspect that I had just gone mad, and that there was in fact no one there in all actuality.  
And so I left school in a confused daze, in fear for either my safety if this man was stalking me - or my mental health if he wasn't.

"Mother, i'm home!" I yelled half-heartedly , shutting the door behind me. I slung off my school shoes and fell onto the couch, turning on some mind-numbing sitcom, trying to forget the figure stalking me today - and the ever present feeling of the same figure being around here somewhere.

It was all so overwhelming. I had never been susceptible to such paranoia, and now I was sure I was being stalked by some sort of shifty Asian man. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the predicament I was in. And then I sighed, trying to reassure myself. How could I be so sure I wasn't imagining all of this?  
Shaking my head, I went to the kitchen, preparing to make myself a coffee to calm myself down, if only for a little while.  
Not that it worked for long.  
"Anastasia!" My mother yelled down to me. "Go to the shops, get a few frozen Pizzas, will you? I don't think I will be able to cook tonight ... I've got so much to do ..." The end of the sentence was more her mumbling to herself than talking to me. I sighed. 16 years of knowing this woman (Yes, you are right to assume I am 16 years old) and she still called me 'Anastasia'.  
Dad would call me 'Stacy', my friends would call me 'Anne' - Hell, even that Russian PE teacher I had, who was always making fun of me for what he considered my short height of 5'3 (Technically I was 5'3 and 1/2, but that hardly made much difference to anyone), called me 'Nastia'.. Granted, I think he just kept reading my name wrong off of the register - I mean, what kind of nickname was Nastia?  
Anyway, more to the point, my mother had for most part been incredibly formal with me.  
My Dad on the other hand, had always devoted his time to me (when he was at home, at least) seeing as I was his only child. However, Mother .. She never really had much time for me. Or anything else, for that matter. She was always stuck in the study, carrying out paperwork.  
Rolling my eyes, I drunk what was left of my coffee, and grabbed my mothers purse from her bag on the kitchen table. "Alright Mom, I'll be back in a minute!" You can not imagine how awkward the word 'Mom' sounded on my lips. Dad was easier to say, as me and my father did not have the same boundaries my mother had created between her and myself.

I braced the harsh wind outside with a heavy feeling in my chest. I had the slightest inkling I had forgotten something. I pushed it to the back of my mind, pinning it on my longing to be back inside the comfort of my home. Luckily, the supermarket was just a few minute walk away from my house, so I could get back to watching idiotic sitcoms and that new 'Jeremy Kyle USA' in no time.  
I made it into the shop without many complications - although there was a rather greasy teenager working there who seemed to be staring at me, but I shall spare you readers of the uncomfortable details - and I just picked up 2 pepperoni pizzas, payed for them as quick as I could in order to get away from the gaze of the greasy teenager, and shuffled out awkwardly.  
Managing the shopping bag on my arm, I began crossing the road, when my phone started ringing. "_Draw a circle, that's the Earth, Look closely, that's the Earth, Might that be the Earth, I am Hetalia ..." _What can I say? I'm a shameless Hetalia addict. Sue me.  
On second thought, please don't sue me. I'm poor.  
Maybe it was fate, maybe it was just sheer stupidity that made me check my phone in the middle of the road that day. Granted, it was something I'd normally do, being the airhead that I was.  
I looked at the number, only to be confused. _Unknown._  
It was then when things got out of hand.  
A sudden, deafening sound of a Transit Van honking into my ears caught my attention. I immediately dived with all the elegance and grace of a one-legged sloth, to try to get to the safety of the other side of the road - but to no avail.  
Everything started going in slow motion. In a moment of inappropriateness, I wondered who would deliver the pepperoni pizza to my parents.  
The heavy machine swerved, making a gut wrenching screeching sound, trying desperately to avoid hitting me. However, we had both been at the wrong place at the wrong time. The force of the vehicle driving into my side caused immense impact, hitting me with a _smack._  
If only I hadn't went to answer my phone ...  
It was then realized what I had forgotten.  
Right in the corner of my eye, I saw a figure of a shifty looking man, who looked to be of Asian decent, putting his phone into the back pocket of his trousers.  
Moaning in pain as I was jolted through the air, I remember yelling out in a frustrated, furious tone "You Bastard!", before blacking out.  
And that was the last of the real world I was going to see for a long time.

* * *

**Wooo! My First Hetalia fanfic! Do you like the awkwardness of my main character? Anyone? ... No?  
Anyway, This is fun to write. But, I am kind of like a review Jew - so uhhh review please, or my motivation to continue will cease to exist. *Sigh* I welcome constructive criticism, And I actually need any ideas for this story - I will probably experience writers block in the forseeable future, as I have no idea where this fic is going. So yeah .. Reviews are love:D There will not be any Yaoi in this story, I'm afraid - and even if there is, there will not be much, and it will not make an impact on the story whatsoever. Just saying.  
NekoKittySmileyFace:P**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning - May contain a socially inept, rather awkward teenager. If you are offended by this, Please grow some balls and read it anyway.  
**

* * *

**Anastasia's POV**

I'd woken up submerged in an inky black. When the groggy confusion subdued, I noted that my eyes, were in fact open. Then .. Why was it so dark? Where was I? Oh yes, that's right - I remembered going to the store ... and .. getting ran over, with the help of a shifty Japanese looking man. If what I was remembering was in fact the truth, then I knew I should have been in the hospital.  
However, this didn't seem to be the Hospital. It didn't seem to be anywhere .. It was just an eerie nothingness - as if I had never opened my eyes. I brought a hand to my face, and I could make out an outline - even if only slightly.  
Questions raced through my brain. What was happening? And Where was the pain I was supposed to be experiencing from the crash? Shouldn't I be in extreme agony right now?  
The more I inhaled this darkness, the more my worry grew. Worry grew into panic - and then of course, panic, grew into me hyperventilating. This was it. I had came to the conclusion that I had died.  
"Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God!" I spluttered through ragged breathe. "That Asian bastard helped fucking kill me, I'm going to haunt his ass .." I cursed in a way that would no doubt shame my mother, before I came to a realization.  
"I have done nothing useful with my life .. In my 16 years, all I did was watch bad sitcoms and anime - and read shitty fan fictions about Mary-Sue's, and drink all the coffee we had in our house! I was a complete and utter failure, and now I'm dead!" Wailing pathetically, I rocked back and forth in the dark.  
"Ah, what about religion? I never prayed to Jesus - Or Allah - Oh dear ... P-Please save me Ganesh!" I shrieked, calling out into the darkness, losing my usual mature grasp of words and air headed composure, and falling into a category of desperate pleading for my life. I was about to offer to spend the rest of my life in a nunnery if I was able to be rescued from this fate, until I heard a male voice out of nowhere.  
".. Hello?" It was muffled, deep, and full of wariness.  
I blinked. "H-Hello ..?"  
Then a door opened.  
Confusion overwhelmed me, thoughts raced around aimlessly, bouncing off of the walls of my skull, until something finally dawned on me. Light filtered in, and I observed my surroundings - a lonely mop to my right, a bucket that I was evidently sat in.  
I wasn't dead.  
I was in what looked to be a janitors closet.  
This scenario raised a lot more questions that needed to be answered, though.  
A gigantic, shifty looking man of Asian decent met my eyes. Scars littered the exposed, ample muscle on his arms. He was wearing a satisfied smirk, as if he had accomplished something - and it perplexed me, until I realized why it was there.  
"You!" I gasped, pointing at him. "You were the stalker who wanted me dead on the way back from the store!" What I wanted to be a growl - but turned out to be a rather feeble squeak - escaped my throat. I stood up, wobbling slightly from being sat down so long. I wanted to look fierce, strong, even though I was intimidated by this brutish looking man. Adrenaline pumping through me, I got ready to defend myself.

The smirk dropped off of his face for a second, and his brown orbs widened and he quirked an eyebrow with curiosity, causing his glasses to slip from the bridge of his nose. Propping them back in place, the smirk was back, lacing his facial features. He looked almost excited by this, as if he was a predator, cornering his prey.  
"Now now Moldova, lets not do anything hasty .." His voice was scratchy - He looked like a man who'd have probably abused his vocal chords mercilessly with alcohol, and barking at lower ranked men. Why was he calling me Moldova? "You better not do anything out of lin-"  
He was interrupted by me pouncing on him with an undeniable rage and desparation. I tried to be as graceful as my body would allow me to, but my nerves failed me. We fell clumsily to the ground, with me on top of him, my slender fingers clenched firmly around his throat, constricting his airways, and it was easy to see it was taking a toll on his breathing.  
He was a big man, and he could have easily pushed me away, but it seemed he was so shocked that the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "So you stalked me, tried to kill me, and then stuffed me in a closet? W-What kind of sick freak does that?" I tried to snarl, my face close to his, hoping that all traces of my default awkwardness had been replaced with what looked like a harsh ice-cold posterior - I was not a coward, but I knew I was faltering .. This man was truly disquieting.  
The slimy, sadistic man grinned. "If you do not comply," he started in a cocky tone, "then you will have to kiss goodbye to everything you have ever loved."  
I didn't even flinch, although inside, I was an emotional wreck. "What if I just killed you instead?" I sounded calm, too calm. Like some sort of sociopath.  
Keeping my poker face, I glared at him, and in that moment, I was going to kill him. Better to kill this predator, than be killed.  
I did not get like this often, but I believe being almost killed and then kidnapped by a shifty, slimy, tank of a man is an appropriate situation for anger. It was completely unsuspected from a usually bumbling airhead such as myself, and I couldn't help but feel proud of myself.  
He let out a laugh. It was hallow, and void of feeling. He was no man, he had the emotion of a machine. As if he wasn't afraid of death. "Then you will definitely never find your way home, and you'll be stuck here forever."  
Frustration set in, and I sighed, my intent of murdering this man slowly decreasing, before replying condescendingly "In a janitors closet? I'm not smart, but I think i'll be able to get out of here no problem, thanks." Like the fool I was.  
The man who had yet to be named looked at me with an feeling that was almost identifiable as disgust. "Are you stupid, girl?" I blushed, realizing that that was probably not what he had meant. "You are so far from your home, so far from everything you recognize, and you can't even see it. You don't even know the situation, where you are." He hissed harshly from underneath me.  
That quietened me, if only for a moment or two. "Where .. Where am I?" I asked, my voice softening - only due to bewilderment.  
He scoffed. "Now why would I tell you after all that attitude?"  
I stiffened visibly. This man was irritating, with his only two valid emotions of apathy and arrogance. I had a sudden, painful urge to cry, but gritted my teeth.  
"Because, _slime bag_," I huffed in response. "I could kill you right now with my bare hands, in such an uncomprehendingly painful manner, that your screams of anguish would not even be able to escape your mouth. "So you be a good boy and tell me where I am, _are we clear_?" I murmured in a sinister fashion, my grip on his neck becoming only that much tighter - I think we both knew I was bluffing, however.  
The man seemingly in his mid twenties gagged, but he did not fight me off like I knew he could - Like he was happy I was having this negative reaction. "You remind me so much of Russia when he is enraged._ It's Perfect._" He muttered back, confirming my suspicions, in a way that almost made me shiver. Then the hostile atmosphere lifted. "You aren't even in England anymore. You are in a secure unit in uncharted territory - the home base of the personifications." I heard him sigh after he said it - like he could tell I wouldn't get it. And of course, I didn't.  
"No.." I started warily. "I'm in a closet."  
The man growled. "You are in the home of countries. And now you need to help me."  
I stared at him. Great. I had been captured by a slimy, 6'4 man, who was now turning out to be **insane**, apparently. Wonderful. I was going to be violated, brutally murdered, and dumped in a river in an attempt to conceal the evidence.  
So I did what any other person would do.  
I screamed.  
"Help!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs. My father told me that whenever I was in a situation of being abducted, this is what I should do. "This insane slime ball tried to kill me -"  
"Shut up ..." He interrupted, looking irritated, and to my pleasure, nervous all of a sudden, and that moment I actually thought screaming like a 10 year old girl would help.  
"He's going to try it again!" I continued, and yet no one was coming to my aid. I now wasn't as confident in my actions.  
"Shut up...!" He repeated, squirming from underneath me.  
"He's stuffed me in this janitors closet -"  
"I can't believe you won't shut up!" He snapped, hands coming up quick to muffle my cries. "Do you want them to hear you?"  
I scoffed, before licking his hand, causing him to drop it in surprise. "No," was my witty retort. "I am just screaming for someone to help me for no reason. I thought that might be a fun thing to do. Heaven forbid I am trying to get away from a demented man who is about 10 years older than me who recently kidnapped , That is the opposite of what I am trying to achieve." I huffed. "Moron."

Apparently this was a response worth ignoring. "Disgusting creature .." He muttered under his breath, probably referring to me licking him, wiping his hands on his khaki green jeans. "Will you get off of me?" He tried, even though he could fling me off of him by himself.  
I almost laughed in disbelief. "Not until you tell me what is going on."

He inhaled sharply. "Alright. My name is Hidekaz Himaruya."  
Oh dear lord.  
This was the creator of Hetalia I was currently sitting on. I was mortified. Somehow, I'd been expecting him to look different - this wasn't some anime nerd, like myself: this was a huge brick wall of a man, head shaved into a buzz cut, and scars running up his arms.  
I had actually issued a death threat to the creator of Hetalia.  
"I am known for being the creator of Hetalia." He paused, telling me something I already knew, due to my many years of fan-girling the manga and the anime. "However, that is not technically true .. It was not originally my idea." He admitted.  
I gasped. "Scoundrel!" There was a moments silence. Well there goes that wonderful, almost assassin-like image I had created of myself.  
Himaruya continued. "Whilst I did come up with the anime, the characters, are in fact, very much real .. I made the show based on the way the countries interacted with each other."  
Figures. He certainly didn't look like he was a man who drew comics in his mothers basement. "They are kept here so they can be kept an eye on by the higher powers in government, so they can make sure the countries do not endanger any of the public, or alert the public to to the country personifications existence. They have been here for longer than I wish to know.  
"I have dragged you here because we need your help. You have noticed the war count and the natural disasters in the world steadily increasing, yes?" I slowly nodded, not really taking it in. "We've been monitoring the countries for a while, and it seems that history doesn't affect the way they interact with each other." Himaruya hesitated. "It's more the other way around." Again, more hesitation. "They control the world."  
He looked at me as if this should be important information to me, but it hurt me to be concentrating this hard and still not having the ability for it to click why _I _was needed here. "You know what this means?"  
I said nothing.  
"It means," He started, apparently not needing an answer. "We could possibly take the whole world out of recession! Out of Global Warming! The opportunities to help planet earth are .. are endless! He exclaimed, before muttering darkly in a lower tone, "We can control it all ..."  
Any evil intent coming from this power hungry nutcase went straight over my head. Soon, his expression returned to apathetic. "And that is where you come in. We need some one to pretend to be a nation and fit in with them. Someone to find out what exactly is happening within this little group of people, so we can prepare for the effects on the outside world - and moreover, someone who can keep the peace, who can help us stop any wars from breaking out. We searched tirelessly through all of our records to find someone who 'fit the bill'. Then, we found you, Anastasia Scott."  
I responded with an uncomfortable stare, for what seemed like ages. I had been silent for an awful long time, and I could tell it was irritating him, his left eye twitching.  
Then, I finally mustered up a reply. "You are completely and utterly demented."  
He clearly was not expecting that. "W-What?" Himaruya asked, bewildered, a flash of actual emotion finally etched onto his face.  
"You are clearly insane. I am not listening to you. I know I am not the smartest tool in the box, but you can't actually expect me to fall for this! What kind of trick is this, anyway?" I ranted nervously, my voice raising an octave with every single word. "You are mentally unstable! I want to go home! You are saying I am supposed to pretend to be a country? What do you take me for?_ I want to go home!_ You clearly belong in a loony bin! **I want to go home! _Take me home_!**" I wailed, tears threatening to spill over now.  
"B-But it is true!" Himaruya protested. "We have searched all our databases for someone someone like you!" He sounded more agitated than anything else, and I knew he wasn't even considering taking me home now.  
I jumped up off of this man quickly, eventually registering that I should have done so a while ago. "And you are the perfect stereotype of a mental patient! Take me home! Get me out of this Janitors closet and take me home!" I howled.  
"Please just be quiet and reconsider -" He started desperately.  
"Just take me home!" I cried.  
The man finally snapped, seething. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! You have no other prospects where you come from! You are _certainly_ not smart," He insulted, and I felt a pang of hurt."Your grades are below what is expected of a young person your age, and with your lack of sensibility, no one is going to see you as a potential employee! This is the only thing in the whole world that you will do well at, that you will be accepted for - and you are refusing to even hear me out!"  
The words hit me like a slap in the face. I ground my teeth, momentarily vulnerable. He was right. We both knew there was nothing for me there after I left school.  
"But .." I sniffled, feeling that this was one of those situations I should be entitled to wallow in self pity. "My friends and family -"  
"You have resigned to a life where your father is barely at home, and your mother is barely noticing your existence. Your social life leads a lot to be desired - I can tell, I heard your little panic attack earlier. You have a chance to be important here. Don't waste it." His retort was not as furious but just as cold - moreover, it rung true.  
I had no noteworthy achievements in my life - I was going to remain an average member of society for the rest of my days, when right here there was an opportunity to change that.  
Himaruya saw my expression faltering. "A landlocked nation called Maldova escaped our secure unit in the early 2000's." He started in a soft tone, pushing information onto me whilst I was shocked enough to consider listening to it. "She suffered great hardship - she was naive for most part, much like yourself, and spent her money on useless things. She would fall back on her good friend and room mate Russia - of whom her personality vaguely resembled, with the sinister nature of the older nation. To try and boost her economy even further, she flitted between many nations, and before leaving, briefly shared a dorm room with the Italy brothers and Spain. Though, she was so intent on being independent - all she desired was to not need the help of anyone else ever again."  
He paused for a moment.  
"One day, she heard of the idea that it was the countries reflecting the actions of the personifications, and not the other way around. So, on a complete impulse, she must have thought that if she escaped and never interacted with another country again, then she would gain ultimate independence. She pushed Russia away, who was intent on becoming one with her, and fled soon after. I don't believe her intentions held any malice - the girl was pleasant enough, if not a bit clueless.. " He coughed, his eyes flashing to mine. "And as soon as she left, the real country had been bailed out by Romania, leading us to believe she is currently hiding out there. However, we will not be searching for her."

He paused to rummage about in his pockets, before dragging me out of the closet with a firm hand. We looked to be in a military base. The lights were off, creating a shady aura around the steel room. Advanced computers were plugged into the walls, the buttons blinking various colors every so often.  
I glanced out of the one large window in this place - we seemed to be overlooking a school of some sorts - before returning my gaze back to Himaruya, who was searching for something on the large, rectangular table, that appeared to be the main focus of this room.  
"Why had you stuffed me into a closet anyway?" I asked, relaxing slightly.  
Not paying much attention to me, he simply replied "There was no where else to put you."  
Huh. I didn't dare question him on it further.

I wondered what would normally be taking place here. Perhaps meetings? I didn't know. However, I knew the atmosphere in the room was adverse.  
"Ah, here we go." Himaruya sighed contently, before shoving something into my line of vision. A photo.

It almost looked like a mugshot. A short teenage girl of about 5 ft, with an airy expression laced into her features. She was smiling as if she had no care in the world. There was a glint of determination and liberty in her icy blue eyes that made me feel like grinning. Her hair was pin-straight and blonde, bordering on white, and came down to her solar plexus. I did not remember having this photo taken of me, although from the look of me, it must have been produced about a year ago. I must have been about 14 or 15.  
It was slightly unnerving that this man had acquired it - I was puzzled. "Why are you showing me a picture of myself, Himaruya? More importantly, how exactly did you get it in the first place?" I asked, confused.  
He chuckled humorlessly. He didn't seem to have real emotion unless he was in conflict with someone. He sat down at the table, before motioning for me to take a seat as well. "It's not you. It's Moldova - human name: Anastasia Drăgan. You can see why we thought you would be perfect to impersonate her. You even have the same first name, for crying out loud. It's not just looks - You are both young and naive, and you both scarily resemble Russia when you are angry. From our databases, your file tells us you are also fairly stup- air headed, just like Moldova. I am sure no one will be able to tell the difference."

The words were conveyed without any tone, which sent shivers down my spine - Was I a human being to him? Or was I just an object that he could use for his own benefit? "Of course, we are going to have to change your clothes, you are going to have to put on the Moldovan accent. And there is the matter of learning some Moldovan - and maybe some Russian - although for the country personifications All you will really need to know is the basics - they are quite dull. 'Yes', 'No', that of the sort, and they won't even think to question you. They'll just be shocked to see Moldova back in the unit -"  
"Hang on." I interrupted. "I never agreed to this." I hesitated, thinking for a second. "Not without reward."  
Himaruya let out an audible sigh of relief. "So you will do it?" I nodded. "Good to see you are smart enough not to deny our offer. We will give you anything you desire if it means it will aid you in this task."  
I smiled - even if it was only false. "Perfect. I'll just need help on playing the role of Moldova then - for now."  
Himaruya's expression remained the same. "This is not a play, Anastasia. This is now your life. For the foreseeable future, you _shall_ be the nation of Moldova. You shall be living this lie."  
Frowning, I asked "Foreseeable future? How long will I have to do this?"  
The man ignored my question. He rose from sitting at the table, and strode confidently to a cabinet on the other side of the room. I stood up also, staying close to the table - shifting my weight from one foot the the other quite uncomfortably, curious to what he was looking for.  
He almost slammed the things he was holding onto the table. It looked to be a book. "This contains everything you need; Information on the countries and the way you interact with them as Moldova, Your personality, and the facts of your country. Whenever you need help, just look in here, and it'll probably have the answers. Just remember - don't _ever _let anyone else see this book. Keep it out of the way of your room mates, we can't have them finding it."  
I felt overwhelmed - This was all so insane.  
A pang of pain stuck inside my chest - after the initial shock of this almost impossible scenario died down, I knew I'd be regretting this. I think we both knew that if I was in a more stable frame of mind, I would have considered this much more carefully. I didn't even fully understand why they needed a fake Moldova roaming around the home of the countries, anyway. I mean, he has explained it to me, but I still wasn't that sure...  
God, look at me rambling - every Hetalia fan had dreamed about this opportunity at some point, me included - I had always imagined being in a situation like this - albeit a I did for see a much less scary, sinister start - but now it was all happening, I'm going to admit, I was scared. This wasn't some amazing fan girl experience - well at least not for now. And what about the injuries I was supposed to have gotten? Where were they? With all this happening, I'd forgotten that I had made it out of that car crash without a scratch ... which was impossible ...  
Ahem.  
Well, back to what was happening - He looked at me almost expectantly, as if I was supposed to rush into action. "Umm, excuse me ... but who are my room mates, exactly?" I asked, partly because I was genuinely wondering, but also just to keep the conversation going - The creator of the Hetalia anime wasn't much of a talker, apparently - which was like the pot calling the kettle black if I am quite honest, as I hadn't really contributed to the conversation either - but I had been hit with a car and kidnapped. What was his excuse?  
"Well, that's in the book I gave you. Find out yourself." Wonderful. "Now we need you to get changed. Moldova would not be caught dead in clothes like yours." He looked over me his nose turned firmly in distaste. Self conscious, and slightly offended, I looked down at my clothes. Ripped shorts and a simple grey jumper. I didn't see what was so wrong with it, but didn't comment. Himaruya started venturing out of the room, before looking back at me, grunting, and gesturing for me to follow him. I obliged without haste, not wanting to be in that creepy room any longer.

The walls were all varying clinical shades of white, and whilst jogging to keep up with the long strides of the older man, I couldn't help wonder why I had agreed to any of this again. Himaruya didn't help, staying uncomfortably silent on the journey. When he finally slowed down to a stop, it was at a large iron door. We stood there for a few seconds, both of us motionless as my gaze lingered on it, slightly intimidated by its size. Then, the tall mans hands went to a sensory pad next to the door, briefly grazing it before the words '_Access Granted_' flashed on the machine. The door opened slowly, leaving me in suspense of what was inside.  
"Damn it, we need new doors - these have been playing up for months now. Why can't a top organisation pay for some fucking doors .. " Himaruya sighed in frustration, seeming to be talking to his self more than to me. When the door finally opened to its full capacity, I peered inside. It looked almost just like the last room.  
"Privet, New Moldova!" A chirpy voice cooed suddenly in my ear, and I kid you not, I crumpled into a heap on the floor.  
"Oh dear lord," I breathed, blushing fiercely, looking up at a woman with blonde hair slicked back tightly into a bun, who was almost the same height as Himaruya. "Ah - S-Sorry." I mumbled, embarrassed.  
The fair skinned beauty just laughed. "Ah, It's okay new Moldova!" She grinned, turning to Himaruya. "Hidekaz Himaruya, long time no see, da? New Moldova you brought is very funny." She spoke in a strong Russian accent - she seemed friendly enough - however, Himaruya did not seem to like her one bit. His hands were balled up into tight fists, and he spoke with gritted teeth.  
"Miss Ershova, this is Anastasia Scott. Anastasia, meet Miss Ershova." He said without bringing his eyes off of the woman once.  
"Hidek, why do you hurt me so?" The blonde winked, only further irritating Himaruya. "My name is Viktoriya Ershova, but Mr. Grumpy pants over here wont even say my full name out loud. Oh Mr. Army man, you wound me!" She cried in a mock dramatic act. I flashed her a small amused smile.  
"Don't call me Hidek." Himaruya snapped, his blood clearly boiling. I didn't understand his hatred - Personally, I liked this woman already - even more so because Himaruya didn't.  
Viktoriya cocked an eyebrow for a moment, before grinning. "You have always been one for informalities, haven't you Hidek?"  
Himaruya was remained silent, obviously thinking of a retort, before finally deciding to ignore her. "Anastasia, Miss Ershova is here to fit you for clothes - she will be able to mimic Moldova's dress sense on you well enough." He paused thoughtfully, and then added "Try not to go insane with Miss Ershova's lackluster company."  
Viktoriya made a sound of protest, and with that Himaruya had quickly made his way out of the room.  
"Okay New Moldova, Let's get cracking!" Viktoriya smiled. I decided I definitely liked her - she made me feel so much more at ease than Himaruya did. Even if she kept calling me 'New Moldova'."First I take measurements, Da? Although, Old Moldova and New Moldova look like same measurements from just appearance .. Maybe I squeeze you into one of Old Moldova's dresses first!" She said chirpily in slightly broken English.  
That didn't seem like a good idea. "But Moldova left over a decade ago, didn't she?" I asked warily. "Wouldn't have she grown by now?"  
Viktoriya pondered this for a minute. "Da! She left at physical age of 15, such a young nation .." She smiled in Nostalgia. ".. Maybe I do need to take measurements." She said sheepishly.

I came out of the room about an hour and a large quantity of clothes later, completely exhausted. Viktoriya was certainly talkative, which was no problem seeing as I matched her attitude normally, but in these circumstances I must have came off as pretty shy. I hadn't even mentioned that I wasn't actually a 'New Moldova' - I still wasn't sure if she was calling me that because it was easier for her, or because she was genuinely clueless to who I was. Himaruya had came to retrieve me, and although I enjoyed Viktoriya's company, I couldn't be happier. Okay, I could be happier, if I was back at my house, eating those Pepperoni Pizzas, and reflecting on the awkward greasy teenager I had encountered in the supermarket, which when life was normal, I guess I would not have been especially thrilled to be doing.  
Viktoriya frowned, pulled me into a hug, and exclaimed "I had much fun, New Moldova! Visit again for more clothes, da?" Nodding frequently, I choked, not comfortable with the lack of oxygen I was receiving - I was still flattered by this action, though.  
"S-Sure - maybe I'll be a better conversationalist next time - I still have not gotten my head around all of this, to be honest." I confessed, a small smile tugging at my lips.  
"Yes, I hope you settle good! And I hope also that you find clothes I made pretty!" She called after me as an irritated Himaruya dragged me out of the door. "Bye Hidek! Journey back soon!" She added happily, almost purposely to enrage Himaruya.  
For a few moments, we said nothing. I smirked, trying to keep the bubble of laughter from escaping my lips. Himaruya looked down at me. "What?" He snapped.  
I couldn't refrain from teasing him in the best Russian accent I could muster. "Hidek? Oh Sorry, I forgot you weren't one for informalities."  
Himaruya growled. "Shut up." This time I let out a laugh. He muttered under his breath, looking straight ahead, "I liked you better when you were intimidated and silent, and not tainted by _Miss Ershova_."  
My chest still vibrated with laughter. "But Viktoriya was lovely, Do you not agree Mr. Army Man?"  
I grinned at the response. "I think I even preferred the death threats to this."

* * *

**Yes, this is the second chapter! I tried to develop the characters as much as I could - most stories I read don't make much of a personality for their sideline OC's. I hope it was to your liking:)  
Review with OC ideas - I wont use many of them, and I am not using them to pair off with other characters, since I think that takes away from the main story, but they'll probably be used as Teachers and Employees at the base, and I will put in as much detail into them as I have with Hidekez Himaruya and Viktoriya Ershova! And, if you don't mind, tell me what pairing you'd like best? I personally like the Italy brothers, but I like to please my readers!  
Love and hypothetical cookies,  
NekoKittySmileyFace:)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning - May contain a socially inept, rather awkward teenager. If you are offended by this, Please grow some balls and read it anyway.  
**

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**Anastasia's POV**

Himaruya had dragged me and my suitcase full of clothes out of the home base, and into the local town nearby. It was beautiful and warm - that is all I knew about the place though, because Himaruya wouldn't tell me where exactly we were in the world, figuring it'd be best I didn't, so I couldn't escape. Not that I had any means to escape anymore. I had nothing back home - Not really. And even if he didn't tell me where we were, I told him I could always just ask some stranger - however, he made a good point when he said we both knew I was too socially awkward to do so.  
Anyway - now, we were talking strategies.

"The countries may be quite stupid, but I am sure that all of them, save for maybe the youngest Italy brother, know that the real Moldova would not return to the unit _willingly_ in a million years." He explained, taking strides big enough to make me have to jog to keep up. The local people here stared at us with quizzical expressions, and I cringed at the attention.  
"So, what do you propose we do then?" I asked, lagging behind with my suitcase. I wondered bitterly why I had to bring it along in the first place. Himaruya looked down at me, before roughly grabbing it off of me, and carrying it under his arm. I grinned at him, whilst he scowled.  
"The people in charge of this project came up with an idea - We have been developing it for months." Came the straight forward reply, that made me uncomfortable in wondering how long they had researched me - how long they had, for lack of as better word, stalked me, until we had gotten to this point. He did not go into any more details, and a silence was looming. Even though I thought the silence was extremely awkward, Himaruya looked quite comfortable - well, as comfortable as Himaruya seemed to be able to get, anyway.  
"Well, could I have carried out this idea in different clothes?" I sighed. I was wearing a white, flimsy dress that went just below my thigh, its sleeves hanging loosely off my shoulders. Over it, a black, itchy corset was constricting my breathing. My white-blonde hair had been put half back messily with ribbon.  
In a pencil strap black bag, I kept some Moldovan perfume, and the guide book i'd been given by Himaruya.  
Honestly, I really loved most of the clothes that Viktoriya had made for me - but this just made me look like some kind of gypsy.  
I notified Himaruya of this, and he didn't look amused. "No." I didn't think he was going to say any more on the subject, but he continued. "You may not like it, but Moldova would. We are trying to make you look like the real deal."  
I didn't like to admit it, but he was right. It didn't matter what I liked. I wasn't Anastasia Scott for the time being - I was Anastasia Drăgan, so my opinion wasn't really valid. I should have felt negatively about this, but too be honest, now I had gotten over the initial shock, this was exciting. How many other people could say they were filling in as the nation of Moldova for the government? No one, that's who.

Anyway, I followed the Japanese Giant to a rundown block of apartments. I looked up at them and winced - a couple of windows were smashed, and an equal number of them had been boarded up. "Why are we here, Himaruya?" I asked, looking at the place in distaste.  
Himaruya looked at me as if I should have known this. "Check the book I gave you. From the look of the countries current state, the personification certainly would not be able to afford any decent accommodation."  
I was so in over my head. I barely knew anything about the country, and I was supposed to pretend to be her. Fabulous.  
We walked up a flight of stairs, and the only other thing we passed on our way up was a rather overweight rat. I stopped to point and laugh for a few minutes, until Himaruya sighed in irritation and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the said rat. Frowning, I resumed trailing after him, until we stopped at an apartment. '_72B'.  
_"This is where you've been staying for 3 years, if anyone asks. Not many who know Moldova will question why you are so close to the base - Moldova flitted from living in so many countries - Just like when she was being accommodated in the unit, actually. She never really settled anywhere, and would return to counties forgetting she'd ever stayed there - whether she stayed in their country, their hearts, their 'nether regions' ..." We both made a face of disgust. I don't think I would invade anyone's 'Nether Regions' just to keep up appearance. Although Italy was rather ... _Bad girl._

Awkward moment aside, I opened the door. It was fairly clean, aside for a few bottles of alcohol, that had the word '_divin_' sprawled across the front. The smell of the brandy was only just bearable. Inspecting the place further, I noticed that the beige wallpaper was peeling slightly, so you could see the under layer of the white wall. The dark brown couch was tattered and old looking - almost as old looking as the sandy colored, horribly stained carpets. Walking away from Himaruya, I opened the fridge. There was a few more bottles of divin, and a few bowls of what looked to be porridge.  
"That's mămăligă." He told me. "It's a well known Moldovan dish."  
I ignored this piece of information. "Why is it so empty?" I asked, referring to the fridge.  
"Because Moldova is poor, and she makes poor living choices - She spent more money on clothes than living. If she was a normal human being, she'd probably be dead by now." He replied, shaking his head. I briefly wondered what she was doing at this moment in time. He then opened up my suitcase, and went through one of the doors. I blinked, before rushing after him.  
"What are you doing?!" I asked, watching a Japanese tank of a man throwing my clothes all around what looked to be a bedroom.  
He didn't reply for a while, to preoccupied with what he was doing. Then he finally answered "I'm making your bedroom look lived in." I'm not sure what his bedroom looked like, but heaven forbid it was as 'lived in' as this.  
His hands caught one of the bras Viktoriya had made for me, and his expression didn't falter, although a dark red color had washed over his face. He through it over onto the dirty white pillows. I placed a hand on my cheek, my own blush almost matching his. He took the suitcase and shoved it behind the closet roughly after managing to mess up the room even more than what it had been before we got here. "Today is Wednesday, the only day the countries are allowed off base. It's more than likely that a few of them will be coming to this town - seeing its the closest town to the base - to shop and, in France's case, chat up the local women." Que the grin plastering itself on my face.  
"Why Wednesdays?" I questioned him. A scowl laced his features.  
"Why do you always ask so many questions?" He grunted in response. I shrugged, and He continued. "You are going to make sure whichever ones turn up see you. Most of them will more likely than not 'force' you back to base, whether its because they miss Moldova, because they like enforcing rules, or because they want to be the 'hero'." A small mutter in reference to America escaped his lips. I almost laughed, but I knew Himaruya wouldn't appreciate it. Not that he appreciated much. "You will bring them back here first to gather your things, you need to make this believable. We can't afford to slip up."  
Nodding, I trailed after him as he walked out of 'my' bedroom, and made his way to the door. "What if I can't find my way back here?" I asked.  
Himaruya thought for a second. "Then you'll have failed your first task." Well that's reassuring.

We walked right into the center of town before stopping, next to a large, beautiful stone water fountain, surrounded by quaint shops. I sat down on a nearby bench, watching as a couple threw a few pennies into the waters, smiling.  
The Military man nodded to me, before starting to walk away.  
"W-Wait!" I called to him, standing. "Where are you going?"  
"Back to the base." Was his reply. "If you do your job right, you'll be able to get back in no time. The countries are let out at approximately twelve hundred hours." There was a pause before he added, "Make it believable! Put up a little fight or two!" over his shoulder.  
I thought about running after him, but knew better. I sighed, before sitting back down on the bench. This was the middle of the town - at least one of the countries were bound to come by some time soon. I looked up to a clock on one of the buildings, and it read half past nine.  
Remembering that book I was given, I slipped it out of my bag to pass some time.  
The first page of this guide read '_TOP SECRET -_ _For Anastasia Scott._'  
I flipped to the contents.  
_1: Studies of how The Personifications correlate with Countries, 2: Studies of Anastasia 'Moldova' Drăgan and her behavior... - _"Ah .." I murmured quietly to myself. "3: Anastasia 'Moldova' Drăgan's relationships."

I skim read the opening paragraphs until I found some useful information._ 'Moldova forged strong friendships with various nation personifications in the early 2000's, causing 38% of Moldovan citizens to immigrate. She grew closer to Russia (her already steady friend), the Italy brothers, Spain, Greece, and Turkey...' _  
Smiling, I read on until I found a heading under a name I recognized. ' _**Ivan 'Russia' Braginski**_** '** **  
****'**_The personification of Russia had developed an infatuation with Moldova, believing she needed his protection - She was someone he especially desired to "become one" with. Despite pushing him away in the end, Russia was easily Moldova's closest companion, even if she protested it. Russia was always there for the nation, as was his sister country, Yekaterina 'Ukraine' Braginskaya (see her section for details on their relations)...'_

I skipped the rest of the introduction to find '_**Interaction between the two Nations**_'

'_Ivan often refered to Anastasia as 'Nastia', or as his 'little ditzy Sunflower', much to her Dismay. Moldova tried to feign irritation towards the other country - however, she did admit -albeit begrudgingly- that she felt a brotherly affection towards him. Moldova depended on the elder nation for many things, like economic help, importation, and security, ..'_  
Smiling at the relationship between these two for a moment, I pushed back the thought that I would be picking up where Moldova left off with these countries - these relationships would never be my own, no matter how much I tried.

Distracting myself, I flipped to the page under the heading of '**Antonio Fernandez Carriedo'**, skim reading before I was rudely startled back into reality. "Mon dieu, such a _belle fille_!" a voice purrs in my ear, and suddenly sparkling eyes are locked with mine. "What are you reading, ma chérie?" He spoke seductively, huskily. I almost shivered.  
I couldn't believe it. I was under the lustful gaze of the ladies man France himself, and I couldn't bring myself to even speak properly. "I - I uh .." I stammered, shoving the book back into my bag haste-fully.  
"Kesese, Cat got your tongue, Ja?" The albino ex-nation came from behind France, flashing a toothy smirk at me.I panicked - Himaruya didn't say anything about the fact that some nations wouldn't even recognize me! "I'm the Awesome Pru- Gilbert Beilschmidt!" He spoke smoothly, so smooth that if I wasn't in on who he really was, I wouldn't have noticed his little slip up.  
Now _I_ couldn't slip up. What would Anastasia Drăgan do? Oh god, why didn't I read that bit first?  
Well .. I know she wanted independence, but she was very air headed, much like myself. I assumed when they realized who I was supposed to be and wanted to drag me back to base, my protests would be almost like a childlike tantrum...  
Ugh, what else ..? She flitted from country to country to get what she wanted .. Okay, don't panic - Oh, I remember! Didn't Himaruya say that Moldova was just like the Italy brothers most of the time! So what were they like when they were talking to the opposite sex? Would Moldova try and put up an act and pretend she wasn't really a freaking country or ..?

"Hei boys! My, such băieți frumoși!" I laughed, trying to think of some more words to say. "You surprised me for a second... The book? Oh, Nothing special, not _nearly _as special as what i'm seeing right now!" I smiled cheerfully, using what seldom Moldovan words I had picked up, my heart pounding in my chest. A chorus of chuckles came from the two. I felt like prey, and they were the predators.  
"Do you have a name, meine liebling?" Prussia asked. They really didn't recognize who I was - or rather, who I was supposed to be. Then again, I don't think they had much interaction when Moldova was at the unit.  
"My name? I'm Anastasia Drăgan!" I replied in my most convincing Moldovan accent. Himaruya had briefed me on this.

A warm hand touched my bare shoulder suddenly, and a voice of honey filled my ears. "Hola chica - I apologize for my friends, they don't know how to introduce themselves to a classy woman such as yourself. My name is Antonio Fernan-" Spain froze abruptly as I turned to face him. Recognition sparked in his chocolate brown eyes, followed by complete shock.  
"Spain .." I breathed, feigning shock. I felt so deceitful, so .. dirty.  
"Mollie!" He exclaimed, before he crashed into me, embracing me into a hug. "Mollie .. What are you doing here, chica?" he asked me, gazing down into my eyes.  
Looking away, I murmured lamely "You know I don't like staying in one place too long .. I guess I just f-forgot that the unit was here ..." Tucking my a piece of hair behind my ear, I mustered up enough courage to stare at him straight in the eyes. He looked bewildered, and yet undeniably happy. "Stacie ... we ... we have to get you back to the school!" The Spaniard cheered as it dawned upon him, probably forgetting the struggle that I would put up, seeing as I was supposed to be Moldova.  
"No." I muttered, pouting like a child.  
"Spain, vhat is going on?" Prussia almost demanded to know, staring at me with curiosity.  
"Oui Spain, who is the fille?" France added, his tone still suggestive as he stared at me.

"Compadres, this is ... this is Moldova." Waves of realization crept onto the other two thirds of the bad touch trio. "Do you remember France and Prussia, Stacie?" Spain looked at me. I forced myself to look at them, and make my eyes widen in fake recognition.  
"O Doamne ..." I whispered, using some of my newly learned Romanian. "Francis, Gilbert -" I stopped, pretending to think. "I'm still not coming back." I said adamantly. "I will not go back."  
The Spanish brunette sighed. "I'm sorry, but you have no choice in this, senorita. Please, come with us." He almost pleaded with me, his eyes filled with hurt. I gave him one last glance, drinking it up as I scanned the other two's bewildered faces, before I bolted.  
"Senorita!" Spain called after me, hot on my tail. France and Prussia had no other choice but to start running as well.  
I made sure not to lose them, slowing every so often to let them keep up, whilst trying to remember where exactly my fake apartment was.  
Where was it, where was it, where was it ... "Ah!" I smiled to myself in recognition of the awful building, before I remembered I'd have to go up all those steps, and I scowled ferociously. I went up the steps two at a time, although I could feel the boys gaining on me. With every stride the gap between us lessened, until I heard a sharp "Mon deiu!" and a bang. The smooth blonde probably saw a rat.  
I successfully got to the floor I thought I was on, and scanned for 72B. As soon as I found it, I threw myself at the door, locking myself in.

My breath was ragged, and there was a slight burning at the back of my throat, but I didn't care. That almost felt exciting. Almost. Himaruya would be proud.  
I sunk, my back against the door, then cursed myself for allowing my ass to touch this disgusting carpet. And soon, I heard a banging at my door. "Stacie!" Spain yelled out. "Come on Anastasia! Please!"I sighed. From the short amount that I had read about Spain in the book, I knew that he only called Moldova Anastasia if something was wrong. Normally he used the nicknames Stacie or Mollie (short for Moldova, if you did not notice), so I knew how serious this was.  
"Open the door ma fille!" a french voice panted - I wasn't sure whether it was from running up those flight of stairs, or because of that rat he'd probably seen scuttling across the floor.  
I sighed, making it loud enough to be audible to the men on the other side of the door. "I .. I don't wan't to go back there. I wan't to be independent. I've been doing fine all this time on my own!" I whined childishly, just hoping I sounded convincing.  
"But ma amour .. the '2' in '72B' outside your door has been written in magic marker." France spoke softly, and I almost snorted in laughter.  
Realizing this was not the time, I retorted "It may not be much to you, but I've been able to live a normal life all by myself. It means everything to me."  
Gilbert murmured about how unawesome this place was, and I silently agreed with him. I couldn't wait until the point in the conversation when I could just open the door and leave and go to the unit, see Himaruya again.  
"Senorita, the people of your country are below the poverty line, because you haven't been interacting with other countries - importation of food to your country has stopped. Please Mollie, you'd be better off at school - Y-You'd actually be more independent in the long run if your country could get back on its feet!" I wondered if Moldova would except that as a good argument - I, however didn't need any more convincing.  
"Well ..." I dragged out the word exasperatedly, pretending to hesitate, before heaving opening the door.  
They looked at me with curiosity for a few moments, as I hung my head in feigned sadness. Now for the next step. I stepped aside, and motioned halfheartedly for them to come in. Then I let them see where I 'lived'. Everything was going smoothly, I guess - their reactions were as expected - Prussia and France wrinkled their noses in distaste, whilst Spain just flashed me a look of sympathy.  
I didn't like this feeling, that people were actually pitying me. It made me feel pathetic.  
I Briefly shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of these thoughts. I wasn't even the one they were feeling pity for - I was just someone being forced to replicate her. Why should I feel bad? Sighing, I said in a small voice "I .. I'll come with you. For the sake of my country."  
Grinning, Spain tackled me into an embrace. Heat rose to my cheeks as I felt his breath on my skin. I wondered if the real Moldova ever felt like this.  
Silence took over for a few minutes, before Prussia coughed. "Meine Frau, this place is so unawesome ..." The albino German commented once again in disgust. Another hit that I let affect my pride.  
Spain broke apart from me and elbowed Prussia in the side, glaring at him, and the red eyed fool returned the glare just as fierce. After a moment of Spain taking in in the oh-so-wonderful peeling wallpaper and disgusting curtains, the Spaniard mumbled softly"Mollie .. Why didn't I expect anything different?"  
He didn't wait for a reply. "Prussia, France - go back to school, get a suitcase from our dorm. We're taking her back with us."  
This was the second time the chocolate eyed boy made a reference to the base being a school. I made a mental note to ask Himaruya about it later, or at least look back in the book.  
"But this is the only day we get off all week! Can't it wait until later?" France whined, before adding with a smirk "I need to give le local girls a taste of vitamin D, If you know what I mean - Ohonhonhon~"

I held back a smile, the fact still barely sinking in that I was face to face with the real Bad Touch Trio. Pulling myself together, I coughed. "No need, Toni," I quickly reassured. "I already have a suitcase here .. " Spain Blinked. "You know I never stay in a place for too long, do I?" I smiled nervously. This seemed to be convincing enough, or if it wasn't, Spain wasn't going to question it. For good measure, I added "Can I move back in with you and the guys?" I would have named 'the guys' specifically - only I forgot who else Himaruya told me Moldova was living with after she moved out of Russia's dorm.  
"Of course!" Spain practically cheered. "I mean .. Romano and North Italy would love you to move back in, i'm sure of it!"  
Huh, that was odd. I mean, I knew Romano and Spain were close, but I was sure the ditsier Italian brother would be living with Germany. I had no doubt that this meant that The German would be living with Prussia. That left Frances living arrangements unknown - maybe I'd look in the book later to find out.  
"Thank you so much, Toni." I smiled genuinely. "Right .. I need to go pack, I guess."  
Spain stopped me. "No need Chica, me and France would be happy to pack your stuff."  
France chuckled, muttering something about Nether Regions.  
"But I can do it myself -" I protested, being cut off by Spain.  
"Mollie, I'm practically kidnapping you from your own home. The least I can do is pack your bags, Si?" He grinned, knowing he was right.  
I was about to agree, before France added devilishly"And I will even take my payment for helping in the form of your unmentionables instead of cash. No need to thank me, ma chérie!"  
I almost choked on the air, but the pair were off in my apparent bedroom before I could say anything.  
Prussia said something about going to go get his car, and the next thing I knew I was alone in the living room, wondering how my life had became so crazy.

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**Yes, I am aware of how long it has been before I have updated. I can only hope you forgive me:3 Oh and lets all give a special thanks to Prussias-Bitch, who reminded me I still had to update this story.  
I have such a good idea for this story now, although i'd love to here all of your input.  
I actually love the developing character of Hidekez Himaruya. I hope i've done a good job, because when I read fanfictions with characters involved who aren't canon, I must admit that I usually hate them, maybe because they haven't been developed, or because I am not familiar with them - I don't know.  
I do know that I prefer Himaruya at the moment to my main character. I don't know, I just like his personality better, and its .. more developed, I guess?  
Anyway, my appreciation level for reviews is over 9000!  
Bye guys:3  
**


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